Chapter 73

The wind whipped through the city, tearing away anything that was loose and shattering the glass from windows. Carrying the detritus and razor-sharp glass shard in its gale force winds, the magics unleashed by and against the Patriarch ripped through the crowd, bludgeoning them with heavy debris or slicing into soft flesh with jagged glass.

All around Wil, he witnessed people being maimed and killed by the spell’s aftereffects, the people completely helpless against the magic they had come to witness.

Grabbing onto Astrid, Wil shielded her with his body as the screams from the injured and dying tore through the noise of the intense winds. Wil could feel the dust and dirt scrape along his skin, tearing at his eyelids as he huddled on the ground with his wife, praying that they would be safe from the storm.

The gale blew for only a few moments before the wind settled and the city was spared from further destruction. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the grit that had found its way under his eyelids.

With tears streaming down his face, Wil surveyed the devastation around him.

All throughout the square, bodies littered the ground, some moved weakly, or stumbled to their feet, searching for loved ones. But many more lay unmoving, killed where they stood. The cobblestones beneath their feet were slowly being dyed red with blood, great pools of gore, forming puddles.

The screaming was almost deafening, and Wil was dazed for a moment, until he realized that it was coming from right next to him. Turning, he saw the most horrific sight he had ever experienced in his life.

Where his parents had been, little remained but torn and battered bodies. The pair had been cut nearly to pieces by the flying glass and pummeled by what appeared to be pieces for a table, the splintered wood still lying shattered around them.

Horrified, Wil released Astrid and stumbled towards his parents, desperately hoping that they were still alive, that something could be done, but he knew deep in his heart that they were gone.

He only had time to kneel next to them for a moment, before a screeching sound tore through the city, cutting through the screams of the crowd.

The giant beetle was rearing back, its mandibles clicking loudly, before slamming its head against the ground. The land swelled with the impact, the earth shaking terribly, forcing those still on their feet amongst the crowd to fall, helpless against the earthquake the creature had caused.

Wil fell on top of his parents’ bodies, forced to use his hands against the blood slicked cobblestone to right himself. Next to him, Astrid tumbled into him, screaming in terror as the buildings nearby groaned and creaked, before toppling completely, crashing to the ground, and creating clouds of dust.

Hundreds of people were crushed, their screams cut mercifully short. All around him, Wil could see nothing but death and destruction.

His vision narrowed, and he could hear nothing but the pounding of his heart in his ears as the images in front of his eyes shifted, the world as it was juxtaposed with how he had seen it in his mind’s eye earlier.

The statue of the Patriarch, once whole, was now on the ground. One second the bronze was new and unmarred, the next it was aged and green, nearly unrecognizable.

The bodies of the dead disappeared, not even the bones remaining. The only people left were strangely dressed, Ranked adventurers. Warriors and Cleric, Nobles and Mages. Dressed as if prepared for battle, Wil looked down at himself, only to see that he was wearing dark blue leather armor, a strange symbol of a Drake on his chest.

Memories came back to him in a rush, and he knew who he was, where he and the others had been brought.

“We’re inside the portal.” Wil whispered, turning, and looking at his companions. Astrid was next to him, her eyes closed, shivering in terror, still dressed in her white, desert robes. Archibald Anwir was next to her, kneeling, his hands pressed against the ground to keep his balance. His eyes were closed as well, his mouth open, but no sound emerged.

‘The Past! You must witness my failure!’ The voice screamed in his mind, and Wil reeled as if struck physically. He fell backwards, landing heavily on his back, and suddenly, he had returned to the past.

Opening his eyes, he saw the Patriarch float into the air, an aura of power forming around him as he shouted.

“Stop!” His voice boomed, the sound cutting through all the noise. The earth ceased its rumbling, and the Beetle stepped backwards, unable to resist the Patriarch’s command.

“Heal!” He ordered, and a wave of energy swept across the city, healing the injured, bringing back those who were close to death. But he could do nothing for the dead, and Wil could see the grief etched on the man’s face as he surveyed the damage.

The city was lost, little remained of the once magical city of Aaru. The red buildings were shattered and fallen, the floating palaces, even the magical rainbow, had sunk, the creatures attack pulling them down from the sky.

To Wil, the city as it was now perfectly matched the vision he had of the ‘Present’, the ruins they were to have explored.

“Why are you showing me this?” Wil asked, not really expecting an answer from the voice. Next to him, Astrid turned at the sound of his voice, clutching onto him desperately. He could see her mouth move, asking him questions, seeking comfort, but he couldn’t hear anything she said, it was as if he could see what was happening, but was removed from it.

‘My failure deserves a witness. This was the price I demanded from your gods.’ The voice answered, and Wil knew that it was the voice of the Patriarch, communicating to him across the river of time.

“How is this possible? You’re dead, this whole city is dead!” Wil shouted, gesturing to the devastation around him.

‘To the gods, almost anything is possible, for a price. You should know, chosen one. You brought the Coin, you created the bridge that we now communicate across. But enough of this discussion, you must witness my end. All will be revealed soon.’

The four mythical creatures were taken aback by the Patriarch’s command, and while they reeled, he unleashed his most powerful magic yet. With a raised hand, he pointed at the four beasts, his face expressionless, his aura cold as ice.

“Die.” He said simply, and his mana turned black as night.

It shot across the sky, a darkness that sucked the light from the world. It rushed towards the first of the beast, the Golden Eagle, and its flames flared to life once more. It was useless, the blackness swallowed the flames without pausing, consuming them, before covering the Golden Eagle. In moments, it was gone, as if it had never existed.

Not content the Patriarch gestured towards the next, and the blackness consumed the Dragon Turtle, its grey clouds dissipating as they were devoured. The Wind Horse and the Black Beetle followed. In a blink of an eye, the four mythological beasts were gone, consumed by the Patriarch’s magic.

Wil was stunned by the turn of events, the ease with which the man defeated the tribulation.

“Why didn’t he just do that right from the start!” Wil shouted, confused by what had happened.

His answer came when the Patriarch coughed, collapsing to his knees. The man could barely draw a breath, his cough worsening. Even from this distance, Wil could see the red blood staining his white robes.

‘The cost. Everything has its cost.’ The voice answered simply.

The Patriarch was barely breathing now, pulling potions and pills from thin air, and swallowing them one after another. His pale skin was covered in sweat, his shallow panting the only sign he still lived. The light around him dimmed, his mana weak.

But with every second, Wil could feel the magic around him strengthen again, his erratic aura stabilized, his breathing calmed. Whatever elixirs and pills he had taken had brought him back from the edge of death. And although he was weakened, Wil could see that the Patriarch of Aaru was determined to complete the Ascension.

Just when Wil thought he had come through the worst of the experience, a roar split the air from above. A dark shadow covered the shattered city, and he turned to look at what was approaching. A black figure, long, covered in scales that glimmered in the sunlight. Its massive, leathery wings stretched to reach the horizon, and Wil could see its golden eyes, with black, vertical pupils focused on the kneeling Patriarch.

“Gods. It’s an Elder Dragon.” Wil whispered, his body frozen in terror as he took in one of the most majestic and horrifying sights the world had ever seen.